Date: Mon, 7 Nov 2011 17:34:06 -0700
From: rob loveboy
Subject: Jack-&-Jill-Went-downhill-22
Danny woke me up with a shake. "Hey little dude, you okay?.... I been
shaken ya for a long time now."
"Yea, I'm okay Danny" I said as I came to my senses. "Fell asleep is all.
Guess I was tired, eh!"
"Got your shit, dude," he boasted with a grin, "Sorry it took me a
while.... fucking Frank is hard to find sometimes."
I needed a hit badly but didn't want to appear to eager. He laid on the bed
beside me and we chatted leisurely. He laughed that he had a tough time
crawling through the window hoping no one saw him doing so, that he felt
like a burglar.
I giggled. "Yes, you're here to steal my virginity, asshole," I screamed
out, "THIEF; THIEF, someone please help me! -- Oh I forgot, someone already
stole that."
We both had a fit of laughter over that and I took the opportunity of
laying out a line on the night table. He looked uncomfortable as I snorted
and offered him the same. Perhaps to ease his nerves, he blew a line in
each nostril.
I was in charge once again as I stripped him. Like a rag doll he laid limp
breathing heavier the closer he was to being naked, but very cooperative in
the process. No words were necessary, he came to me for one reason and one
reason only, to fuck me; and God damn it, I wanted it as bad he did!
I tugged at my own clothes in haste, not bothering to fight one stubborn
sock. He needed immediate attention, his hard cock was leaking profusely
and literally trickling over his crown and down the shaft. Not a drop was
wasted as I licked him thoroughly, but the flow was endless. I feared he
would cum if I kept up tonguing his slit and sucking his head and backed
off. The main event is what he came for and what he was going to get.
Perhaps my ass was already well prepared thanks to Mr. Flynn, I straddled
Danny and planted his cock. No pain, sheer bliss as I rode him relentless.
The bed springs hadn't revolted in such a pounding in a long time, which
caused me to think about Jill. How welcoming it would be to have him crawl
through the window and see me and Danny going at it. Would he be jealous? I
hoped so, but something told me that he would simply laugh and high five
me, commending me on my choice of guy and then join in.
I didn't expect Danny to orgasm so quick, but should have know better. Had
he been in my mouth I would have been wiser to his short comings and
prolonged things. It was over much to fast for my liking, more so when he
wasted no time or conversation while he dressed and made his way out the
window. His shame and disgust was very evident even though he tried to be
cordial. My delusions of him staying and holding me tight all night were
thwarted. He never even touched me lovingly, he didn't display the
affection for me that he had in his van earlier that day. He did the homo
shit all on his own volition, I believed he liked it, therefore I
was expecting more from him that night, or so I thought.
I felt remorse for my blatant sexual behaviour that day. A thirteen year
old who never really developed any sort of reputation among his peers had
now acquired one. A flash back of the locker room incident made me cringe;
how stupid and ridiculous I must have appeared flirting with other boys and
my willingness to publicly demean myself had my intentions played out
uninterrupted. I was delusional in believing that they would have all
participated in group sex, wasn't I? But it was so probable to me then, the
sexual tension I felt was real. Or was that how all boys behaved in a
locker room setting? Some kind of macho exhibitionism very far removed from
the hidden truth, but very real to a widened observer?
Yes, my flagrant spectacle in the locker room was certainly noticed, Rick
saw it and cashed in on it. The blow job in his car was premeditated,
anticipated when he offered me a ride home; nothing more, nothing less, he
got what he wanted from a very obliging me. Danny's change in demeanor
confused me because I did expect more from him, not necessarily
sexual reciprication, that would have been very nice, but just holding me
all night like Jillian used to do.
The real horror of my actions was the seduction of Mr. Flynn. How I threw
myself at the man, taking advantage of his weakness because I knew I could.
The feeling of control over a grown man was exhilarating. My first
experience with an adult, a feather in my cap at the time. I found him very
gentle and loving. I enjoyed the sex with, but nature's balance of power
was soon recognized in his favor, adult over child: and I prefered the
latter.
The cocaine Danny scored for me didn't seem to give me the boost as much as
the shit Jill had left behind. I found myself snorting a lot and feeling
the affects for only a short time. How could it be different? Or was it my
frame of mind that hampered the buzz as I laid there staring at the open
window. A storm was developing, a cool breeze and then rain pelted through
the window. Common sense told me that I should close it, but what if he
finally came home tonight? He may see that as a shun, that I don't want
him. Until that moment I didn't want him, or at least was trying to
convince myself of that. Suddenly the loneliness was overwhelming and I
cried myself to sleep.
The next morning I polished off the little remaining cocaine trying to
boost my courage, I skipped home room class not wanting to face Flynn. That
should have been the least of my worries, several boys laughed and pointed
at me. I was called every derogatory queer name in existence. Books were
knocked from my arm on several occasions, or I was pushed into the
wall. The thought of Rick deceiving me was a possibility, but not by Danny
and surely not Mr. Flynn. My conduct in the locker room was the catalyst of
my new popularity, I was sure of that. Word had traveled fast.
Throughout the day I was either bullied by groups of boys, or singled out
one on one by a few of those same hypocritical boys wanting to meet after
school and bluntly asking me to blow them in the woods behind the school or
subtly offering to drive me home, that invitation had a ring to it...
'Rick!'.
But through it all, Jillian was right. All boys wanted a blow job and it
didn't really matter who performed it, and if Rick had boasted to his
friends, it would not label him a fag, just bragging rights to a very
sought after experience at my expense.
I told all of them to fuck off and leave me alone. Like a zombie, I made it
through the day. I wanted to get high so bad, relieve the pain. Who was it
that said, "everybody has their fifteen minutes of fame?" I had had mine at
school, popular one day and exiled the next. Some kids still thought I was
still pretty kewl, my own age group, word hadn't filtered down yet to sway
their opinion, but it would in no time. Shame wracked me like never before.
I wanted to end my life, very serious thoughts of that plagued me.
That day after school I went directly home and walked past his house,
turned and knocked on his father's door. His step mom answered. Her red
hair stuck out like a cartoon sun, makeup smudged her eyes looking like a
raccoon with a cigarette hung from its lips. Her huge tits sagged in what
appeared to be a thigh length, once pink nightie. Her legs spider webbed
with purple-black veins. My Grandma was a lot older, but at least she was a
lady, I thought. I asked about Jillian.
"How the fuck should I know where the little faggot's sellin' his ass.--
Maybe in jail at long last for all I know!" she spat out, then squinted at
me, "Ain't you his latest little fuck buddy from across the way?"
Then Jill's old man appeared beside his swank of a wife, piss stained white
briefs not quite concealed beneath a very heavy beer belly with matching
naked 'man tits' almost as big as his wife's. He looked mean and scary.
I thanked them for their time and turned for home and stopped dead in my
tacks when the man said, "The little shit hasn't been to see his probation
officer in weeks; now he's done got us in a whole lotta trouble, too! --The
law'll be lookin' for him... If ya see him tell him good riddance and not
ta come back here... Lord knows we tried with the little shit, and..."
I walked forward head down, then ran home as fast as I could. The latest
news blew me away. Why would he have not seen his probation officer? Why
had he never mentioned having to see one? Was he in that horrible boy's
home again? He would die rather than go back there, he told me that
emphatically!
I had just got home when Sheldon called asking if he could come over and
visit. At first I didn't want the company, rather wallow in my sorrows
alone, but I guess I needed someone to talk to and agreed to his visit.
Wednesday was Teachers PD day, so a day off from both our schools allowed
us the time together and he could spend the night. He would hold me, that I
was sure of. Not a big masculine type boy, but he would do in my time of
need.
Actually, I breathed a sigh of relief eliminating a possible place for Jill
to have been. He liked Shel, he liked him a lot, but at least he wasn't
with him. Then I re-thought about it and wished he was there.... at least I
would have known where he was, and safe.
I didn't tell Sheldon the full extent of why Jill and I were on the outs.
Too much shame prevented me from telling him what Jill had done, and I was
protecting Jillian's integrity from Sheldon's heroic image. The less that
anyone knew, the better off we all were.
Sheldon detected my sadness though. He didn't pursue an explanation, he
only held me tight, then I cried in his arms, surrendering my emotions at
last.
When I finally told him about the little retarded boy and what Jill had
done, he didn't get angry, he said nothing. Even when I went ballistic,
punching the bed, the wall and ripping apart a feather pillow before
collapsing in his arms again and bawling in deep breathless sobs, he held
me for a long time.
"Ya need to go find him, Jacky; -- bring him home! -- Like... ya, he fucked
up, but I think he knew that, Jacky. That's why he ran away from you... in
shame maybe." Shel said, massaging my back, "Whatever happened isn't
important any more, I would think... I mean I'm kinda new to this homo
stuff and all, but if like... Jillian was my... well... well, my boyfriend,
-- ya know... I would be out lookin' for him! -- Any idea where he might
be? I'll go with ya if ya want me too." he said so caring, loving and
seeing deeper into my soul than I thought him capable of.
I couldn't possibly expose Sheldon to the possibilities of where we might
find Jillian. I wanted to protect him from that seedy life form that I was
subjected to, if of course Jillian wasn't already in Juvenile Detention.
Somehow I doubted that, Jillian was much too clever, street wise. Therefore
I knew in my heart he was out there, and yes, I had to look for him and not
a moment to spare.
Something over powering took hold. It was very hard to explain and beyond
all logic for explanation. Sheldon was right: Jillian was embarrassed after
I freaked out on him, and because of his ways, he ran from the
confrontation with me instead of dealing with it by violence, his natural,
programmed reaction to most traumatic events that came his way.
"You're so fuckin' right, Shel," I yelled, "I have to go find him!... right
fucking now!"
Sheldon was flabbergasted, "I didn't mean right this minute... it's late,
Jacky. Let's wait till morning and...." His words were heard, but not
heeded.
"I'm going tonight: I think it's the best time to find him if I can!" I
reasoned with him. "Please, do me a huge favor and stay here, Shel! Please
be here when I get back... with or without Jillian, okay?"
"I'll be here... I promise!
to be continued for no other reason than Albert Gomez, my inspiration to
write, my confidant and friend.